


The Curious Case of the Upside-Down Bed

by sanguinity



Series: sang's moreholmes [2]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes (1970)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 20:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1239538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanguinity/pseuds/sanguinity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holmes redecorates Watson's room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Curious Case of the Upside-Down Bed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [language_escapes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/language_escapes/gifts).



> For the prompt, "any version of Sherlock Holmes; sharing a bed."
> 
> A follow-up to “The Curious Case of the Upside-Down Room,” one of the film's deleted cases. Spoilers for the case.

"Holmes!" 

"Watson?" Holmes didn’t look up from his smoking apparatus. "What ever are you howling about?"

"Holmes, come here this very instant!"

"To your room? Surely people will talk."

 _"Hoooooolmes!"_   Watson’s voice quivered with indignation.

Holmes permitted himself a laugh, but pushing the foot-bellow aside, went to join Watson, who, the very picture of apoplexy, was glaring at the ceiling of his room. 

Holmes leaned against the door frame and admired his work. “Why,” he drawled. “It seems to defy all the laws of gravity. What do you suppose the trick is?”

"You nailed my bed to the ceiling, Holmes!" 

"Nails, you say? The fiend might have used nails, at that."

"I went to a medical conference in Paris for three days — three days! — and I come back to find…  _this!”_

"Oh, surely you don’t mind terribly? You went to far more inconvenience to coax me off cocaine in the first place. In fact, I’m impressed with your energy, reversing an entire bedroom set. I was done in after just your bed."

"This is unworthy of you!" Watson hissed. "That was conceived out of sincere concern for your health! For you to make a mockery of me—!"

Holmes turned to Watson in surprise. “My dear boy, no one is making a mockery of you. Your plan worked, did it not?”

Watson hemmed, while Holmes watched him. “In a fashion,” he grudgingly conceded.

"In a fashion, yes," Holmes agreed, returning his attention to the bed suspended above them. "I suppose you could say that I was hoping it would work again."

Holmes felt Watson go still beside him. “You don’t mean to say—?” A hand gripped his forearm. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

It had been a wretched three days, but all three vials of cocaine were still safely in his violin case, not that Watson needed to know that. And if affixing Watson’s bed to the ceiling had begun as a fit of vengeance against the man for putting him through this, Watson didn’t need to know that, either. In the end, the challenge of it had been sufficient distraction, and now Watson was back, and that was what mattered.

He gave Watson’s hand a reassuring squeeze, and felt the man relax marginally. “How did you get the bedclothes to hang so nicely? I’m not happy with my efforts.”

"Well, you see," Watson preened, stepping into the room so that he could more clearly instruct his friend. Holmes followed obligingly. "I first nailed the sheets—" He stopped, his hand still pointing at Holmes’s bungled hospital corners, and turned on Holmes with a scowl. "Now see here! Where am I going to sleep tonight?"

"Well, not  _here_. I wouldn’t want you falling out of bed and breaking your neck. I am very fond—”

"Yes, yes, you’re very fond of me! This is not amusing, Holmes."

It was a  _little_  amusing, but it wouldn’t do to say so. “It seems only fair that you sleep in mine, since I’ve put you out of yours.”

"But where will you sleep?"

Holmes allowed himself a puzzled frown. “In my bed, of course. Where else would I sleep?”

"Holmes! We have discussed this! People will talk!"

Holmes gave an arch glance to the bed on the ceiling. “My dear Watson, if anyone chooses to discuss the sleeping arrangements in this house, I am quite certain that it will not be  _my_  bed that they will be discussing, but yours.”


End file.
